Burt L. Standish

“ A lighted lantern made a bright spot in the intense gloom, dimly revealing above him the heavy beams and rafters of the mill. After a little he saw, sitting on the other side of the lantern, a man who gazed steadily at him, and whose face, even in the shadows, seemed familiar. A moment later he realized that the man was John Joyce. ”

“ A second later Joyce picked up the lantern and moved lightly toward the door.
“Jest tell ’em that you saw me, an’ give ’em my regards,” he sneered over his shoulder, but his voice cracked on the last word, and, stumbling over a loose board in the floor, he disappeared.
For perhaps half a minute Curly lay absolutely still. Then the horror of what that human fiend meant to do struck him with full force, turning him cold and then hot as fire. ”

“ Then a smothered, inarticulate sound, half scream, half groan, echoed through the dark mill. It was smoke! The coward had kept his word and fired the building. No one would ever know. The flames were coming fast—fast. Presently they would reach him——
In a panic of horror he again cast himself here and there over the board floor, the sawdust sometimes muffling the thudding sound of his body. There was not one chance in a thousand that one would hear him. He stopped and listened, but detected no sound. A fresh puff of smoke made him gag. It was coming faster and faster, thicker and thicker. ”